


Don't Blow It

by menbung



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, F/F, First Kiss, If This Was Longer I Would Most Definitely Smush These Two Together Permanently, One of These Days I'll Learn How to Write Drabbles, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:44:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7972276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menbung/pseuds/menbung
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hwasa's volunteering at a carnival kissing booth and wants to do a good job. There's just one small problem: she's never kissed anyone before. Surely her best friend Wheein won't mind helping her prepare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Blow It

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyy my first official post! Written to satisfy an anon ask for a "We Can Never Be Together Kiss" on noraebangbang's [tumblr](http://manqueenoir.tumblr.com/post/149916378777/just-found-your-blog-and-i-love-your-writing-can).

Wheein really hates carnivals. Well, hate is such a strong word. Dislike is probably more accurate. There’s so many people, and all the noise, the clashing smells, and the creepy men running the rides who look her up and down and lick their lips as she walks by. That’s truly the grossest part. But Hwasa’s volunteering at this one and Hwasa kinda loves these things and Wheein definitely loves Hwasa so there’s that.

It only took Wheein forever to admit it. And now that she has, everything’s horrible because being in one-sided love with your best friend sucks.

It means suddenly feeling awkward and tongue-tied and worried about being too handsy. Everything is simultaneously too much and not enough and half the time Wheein’s sure she’s losing her mind. It’s only a matter of time before Hwasa decides being friends with Wheein isn’t worth the trouble, much less considering the possibility they might ever become more.

But for today at least Hwasa’s still her bestie, and honestly she’s been that through everything for a very long time, so that loyalty propels Wheein through throngs of sweaty strangers toward the kissing booth.

Hwasa waves wildly, jumping up and down. _Eyes up, eyes up_ , Wheein tells herself, and god it’s so hard because Hwasa is literal perfection in a purple tank and tight, white shorts that annoyingly accentuate her curvy hips and tanned thighs.

“What took you so long, unnie?” she asks, pushing up a wayward spaghetti strap. “Never mind. Come with me.”

Wheein never complains when Hwasa drags her places. It almost always leads to adventure and the conspiratorial look in Hwasa’s brown eyes as they end up in the tent behind the booth is very intriguing.

“Okay, first, how’s my hair?” Newly bobbed and honey blonde, it softens her, makes her even more innocent-looking, but the dark roots seem dangerous, hinting at the wild streak Wheein knows her friend struggles to suppress. “Too much?”

“It’s great.” Wheein really wants to say it looks deliciously sun-kissed, like Hwasa’s spent weeks swimming at the beach and letting it air-dry into delicate waves. That she wants nothing more than to run her fingers through it, get closer and see if she can smell the salt water--

“Really? I’ve never had this color before and I didn’t quite get it all on right because, like, my roots are still showing, and the dye's kinda cheap, but I think it still looks good despite all that, don’t you think, like, it looks good, right?”

“You’re babbling.”

“Am I? Gosh. Okay, maybe I am a little.” Hwasa laughs some and rushes to the tent’s entrance, scans left to right and skips back, satisfied they won’t be interrupted. She takes a deep breath, exhales. “I need your help. Promise you won’t make fun of me.” 

“I’d never make fun of you,” Wheein says.

“Are you joking? You totally make fun of me all the time. Like when I fell down the stairs last week, you _just_ stopped teasing me--”

“Okay, but that was funny.”

“Whatever,” Hwasa says, regrouping. “Just don’t. This is serious. I’m only doing this kissing booth because I promised my mother’s church group and it’s so gross because, like, who even still does these things because, ew, diseases, but this is important now because Jackson’s coming.”

Hwasa’s grin could power an entire city.

“What?” Wheein’s stomach clenches and she suddenly regrets her greasy lunch.

“Can you believe it? His nosy mom told him I’d be here and he messaged me saying he’s gonna be first in line and buy all the tickets. Do you wanna see?” Hwasa gets her phone from her back pocket. Wheein glances at the screen, sees an alarming amount of messages and cutesy stickers. “That’s, like, a confession, right? It has to be. Oh, gosh, he’ll be here soon. I need your help with something. Remember you can’t make fun, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Do a practice kiss with me.”

Wheein suddenly regrets waking up this morning.

“God, I can’t believe we’re gonna have our first kiss at this grungy carnival,” Hwasa says, laughing, and for a second Wheein excitedly thinks she means _their_ first kiss and then her brain reminds her about Jackson--big, lumbering, muscle-pig, oh-so-boy Jackson--and her heart splinters like cracked glass.

Hwasa’s obviously made her choice. _So what if she doesn’t even know I’m an option_ , Wheein tells herself. This is her only chance to know what it would be like, if only for a moment. So she’ll do it. She’ll help her friend.

She’ll pretend.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” Hwasa says, closing the space between them in two big steps. “Have you?”

“Yes. And no, I don’t want to talk about it. Um, just stand there, I guess. It should be pretty simple since you’re in public. I’ll be Jackson.” Wheein puffs out her cheeks and swings her arms, making noises like an overexcited ape.

“Oh my god, be serious,” Hwasa says.

“Fine, fine.”

Wheein sighs and leans in, smiling as Hwasa instinctively does the same. Their foreheads touch, and their noses bump, and Wheein could get drunk off Hwasa’s giggles forever. When their lips meet, Wheein’s eyelids flutter shut despite her best efforts to keep them open--she wanted so badly to see that moment--and she tastes honey and powdered sugar and Hwasa’s mouth is the softest, sweetest thing she’s ever--well, just _ever_. She smells Hwasa’s berry shampoo and mango lotion and everything in her says go deeper. _Jackson, who?_

Instead, Wheein breaks it off. A few seconds, max. It only felt like eternity. Hwasa’s eyes open slowly and she looks so freaking precious Wheein just might scream.

“Oh, wow,” Hwasa says. “Was I awful?”

“No, no. You’re good, uh, yeah. Totally ready."

“Look, your face is so red. Cute,” Hwasa teases, poking at Wheein’s dimple.

Wheein steps back, stumbling a bit over absolutely nothing.

“So, um, yeah, just like that and you’ll be fine. Knowing Jackson, he’ll say something inappropriate right after.”

“He’s really sweet. You’ll get to know each other better soon.”

Wheein snorts like that’s highly unlikely.

Hwasa’s checking her phone as they exit the tent. She turns it toward Wheein so she can see the pic of a grinning Jackson with a fistful of carnival tickets and the message **almost there!**

“Oh my god, he really bought them all.” Hwasa stares at the photo, looking positively smitten.

“Okay. Well good luck, I guess.”

And before she can see or say something to make things worse, Wheein steps away from the booth and gets swallowed up by the crowd.

**Author's Note:**

> Come holler at me on [tumblr](https://writersrepublic.tumblr.com) about writing or kpop or art or whatever.


End file.
